The Scripture
by Annie loves it
Summary: Hiroshi Nakano has always been the one everyone talked to about their problems, yet an interesting keyboardist has yet to come to him. What happens when he gets in to deep? We become entertained, of course. Rated M for mature content.
1. Consumed

**The Scripture**

**Chapter One**

**Consumed**

For as long as he could remember, Hiroshi had noticed that throughout the majority of his life, people liked to pour their souls out into him.

It didn't matter who it was, or where it was, people would just rant to him. Let go of their frustrations, say what they needed to say in order to let their heart free itself of whatever painful burden they were experiencing.

Hiroshi wasn't quite sure why, however. It was very confusing. But he really didn't mind. After all, every person has a story, has many experiences that make up the pages of their life. And those writings are the most precious kind of scripture in the world, and it's such a shame that most people don't ever write them down.

So he was always interested and always willing to listen to a person who just needed to talk. He found it just as fascinating as reading.

He recalled once, on a late night train ride on his way home from a friend's house, that he shared the car with only one other man. He looked worn, sad, and tired from much more then a lack of sleep in his nice black suit. His face had lines of age and his black hair was combed back in a professional manner.

The man sat across from Hiroshi, looking at the teenager in an analyzing sort of way. Hiroshi tried to ignore the awkward stare.

"It's very late for someone as young as yourself to be out." The man stated, breaking the silence.

"Ah but it's late for anyone to be out." Hiroshi replied with a polite smile. The man gave a low short chuckle in response.

But then the laughter died, faded away and being replaced by a sad tinge to the air.

"I lost my job," The man said, dropping his eyes to the steel floor in shame. "And I've been avoiding going home. I don't know how to tell my wife and kids." And as if cued, Hiroshi stood and walked to sit next to the man, ready to hear his story.

There are many stories in the world. Some happy, most sad. Some exciting, most boring. Yet in the end, it never seemed to matter. Almost everyone Hiroshi met opened their book to him, and he was glad to read. He came to really enjoy it.

So that's why, when he met the young, restrained and talented keyboardist by the name of Suguru Fujisaki he readied himself for another story. He got his glasses on, turned on the nearest lamp and had sat in his favorite chair and was ready to read this book.

Yet Suguru hadn't approached Hiroshi.

And this Hiroshi found to frustrate him greatly. So he tried to stay long after work was over into the late hours of the night, or come in early so he could put Suguru and himself in a situation where there was no one else around. Yet still, the boy didn't come to him.

It was driving him mad. He wanted to know about this man.

* * *

"You know Suguru, life isn't about all work and no play." Hiroshi said with a lazy strum of his guitar.

It was late at night and the two men could be found in the studio, Suguru working on some arrangements for their latest song, and Hiroshi strumming randomly on his guitar.

"What do you mean by that?" Suguru asked, never once taking his eyes off the papers before him.

"What I mean is, you can still make great music and have a life too." At this, Suguru did lift his head up and smiled slightly at Hiroshi.

"You've got me all wrong Hiroshi. Just because I don't have a social life doesn't mean I don't have a life. You just fail to see that music _is_ my life."

Hiroshi smiled, shifting his guitar slightly to play another random tune, letting his fingers and his pick roam free along the strings.

Suguru seemed to enjoy this, relaxing back into his chair and letting his mind flow with the soft tune playing.

"I think you play the guitar quite beautifully." Suguru said letting his eyes close lazily.

Hiroshi smiled warmly.

"Yeah, well, I think _you_ are beautiful, Suguru." said person just picked his pencil back up and continued to work.

Hiroshi sighed.

* * *

Hiroshi took note of his conversation with Suguru. Never had they had a conversation that didn't include business-like terms.

Hiroshi smiled.

It may have not been the whole story, but if things continued like this he could gain it, piece by piece.

That boy with his big brown eyes, and his neatly styled hair...he was consumed by_ something_. His heart was being overflowed by this _something_ and it had stolen Suguru's individuality.

Hiroshi added this to his list of what he knew about Suguru.

So far, Suguru was restrained, quiet, easily angered, easily annoyed, very serious, had no apparent social life and now, Hiroshi wrote with his black pen on the notebook, _consumed_.

**End Chapter One.**


	2. Fleeting Thoughts

So Chapter One was like a prologue... and now begins character development and the plot. : )

**The Scripture**

**Chapter Two**

**Fleeting Thoughts**

_I'll do what I can do, I'll do oh anything_

"Let's have sex, Hiroshi." His voice was low and husky as he stumbled onto Hiroshi's lap.

* * *

"We _need_, _deserve_ to get drunk. As soon as possible," Shuichi announced as he walked into the backstage dressing room. "There is nothing better then getting shit faced at a hot and intense night club, right after an amazing performance."

To this Hiroshi rolled his eyes, and sat back on a black leather couch.

"Shuichi, if you want to go and get plastered and have sex in some club with Yuki-san, be my guest, but don't drag the rest of us into it." Hiroshi grumbled.

Shuichi merely stuck his tongue out at his best friend, and made his way over to make-up mirror.

Suguru grabbed a water bottle out of the ice bucket near the couch, and took a seat next to Hiroshi. Opening the bottle, he drank greedily. Hiroshi watched in amusement. And then amusement turned to interest; the pink lips firmly wrapped around the bottle, the water that escaped his mouth, the small beads of sweat that fell slowly down the young man's neck.

Hiroshi smiled.

Suguru finished and sighed, tossing the plastic bottle to the side. Settling back into the couch he turned slightly to notice Hiroshi.

_Such an intense look._

Suguru smiled slyly, and winked at the older guitarist. Hiroshi gulped and turned away quickly. With a satisfied smirk, Suguru turned his attention to the lead singer, currently fixing himself in the mirror.

_That'll give him something to think about._

The room was dim; a soft glow from the lights on the two make up mirrors were the only light source. Racks and racks of clothes were crammed into the room, and so were portable shelves of make up and hair supplies. The building was a large one, with a large audience capacity, but the backstage area was ridiculously small. With the level the band was at now, they rarely performed at a place like this. But hey, a show was a show, and Shuichi was right, it had been a good one.

Suguru sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

Shuichi turned in his chair and jumped up, walking over to one of the clothing racks. Flinging off his black jacket from the performance, he grabbed a white button up shirt, a pair of torn dark wash pants and a dressed-down suite style jacket.

" Hurry, so we can get out of here before K-san gets to us." Shuichi said as he pulled off his stage clothes and began changing.

Suguru sighed and turned to Hiroshi, trying to catch the older boy's attention to plea for him to handle the pink haired bundle of stupidity. However Hiroshi's attention was caught by his cell phone, texting away. Suguru frowned and leaned slightly closer to peer at the screen.

_To:_

_Ayaka_

_Message_

Suguru growled and sat back, folding his arms.

Shuichi picked up his cell and began dialing, holding the phone to his ear as he moved around the room, moving things and throwing things this way and that, putting stuff in a small black back pack.

Finally he stood up straight, stuffed his phone in his pocket and turned to the other two.

"Yuki said he'd meet us there in a bit, so lets go! Off to Black Tie we go, get up get up!" Shuichi encouraged, standing in front of the couch.

Suguru looked again at Hiroshi, and with a little anger he responded, "Yeah, let's go. I could use a few anyway." the teen stood, and walked over to the clothing rack, pulling off a pair of black jeans, a blue t-shirt, and a dark violet button up shirt.

Hiroshi gaped at Suguru, but shrugged his shoulders and followed suit.

* * *

The three had just managed to escape their gun trotting manager, and were now outside the Tokyo Performance Hall that had just been the location of their show. Shuichi tried desperately to hail down a cab in the freezing cold of the night, as all three shivered violently.

"Damn it! Who does a guy have to fuck to get a cab around here, huh?" Hiroshi exclaimed as a cold wind wrapped around the three.

His outburst seemed to be the cue as a yellow cab pulled over and stopped before them. Shuichi squealed and jumped in, scooting over to the far seat. Suguru was next, taking the middle, and then Hiroshi, pressing close to Suguru to close the door.

"Where too?" The driver grumbled, not even turning to look at his passengers.

"The Black Tie please, and make it hasty!" Shuichi pleaded, thinking nothing but how pissed Eiri was going to be. They were so late. Shuichi groaned and put his head in his hands.

Hiroshi jumped slightly when he felt his phone vibrate. Sighing he reached down and grabbed it out of his front pocket and flipped it open.

_New message from: Ayaka_

_When will you be home?_

Hiroshi frowned slightly and looked to his right.

Knowing Shuichi, not until it was so late it was considered early. But he didn't have to tell her that.

_When I can get away from Shuichi. You know how crazy he is._

"Hiro, put that damn phone away. How the hell are you supposed to enjoy yourself if all you do is text the old 'ball n' chain'? Jesus man." Hiroshi sighed and reached over Suguru's shoulders to flick his friend in the head.

* * *

"Fuck it. I'm going home."

"Yuki! Don't leave me here! Come on, I'm sorry we're late! I just couldn't get a cab to pull over. Yuki!" Shuichi chased after his departing boyfriend through the throng of people in the pulsing night club.

Hiroshi sat back in the leather booth and laughed, picking up a bottle and bringing it to his lips.

"They should make a T.V. show about these two. It would make bank." Hiroshi mentioned.

"Careful, don't let K-san hear you say that. He doesn't need any 'brilliant' ideas, because you and I both know that somehow, we would get dragged into it." Suguru replied, knocking back a shot. Waving at a near by waitress, he ordered another beer.

"True. That's the last thing I need. And I'm pretty sure the last thing _you _need is more alcohol." Hiroshi eyed the already four empty glasses next to the young keyboardist, and the bottle being handed to him by the barely dressed waitress.

Suguru grumbled and opened the bottle. "You haven't the foggiest as to my needs Hiroshi-san."

The way he said it, the way his eyes flashed a little darker for only a few seconds, the way he threw his head back after saying it and chugged half the bottle, seemed to silence the night club around them, and they were the only two in the room.

Hiroshi knew, somewhere inside himself, that there was something wrong. There had always been something wrong with the younger male. Quiet, short-tempered, and intelligent, and always wanting to prove something. This is what Hiroshi had observed over the two years working with him. Problems just waiting to explode and bare themselves, yet in those two years of careful observance, of patient waiting, the teen had yet to reveal them to Hiroshi.

And then there would be those occasional cryptic comments, thrown out with intent to be sarcastic or smart, but betrayed the lips of the boy by holding deeper meaning.

Hiroshi sighed, and took another drink. This was not the time to be reflective or a Debbie Downer. He just couldn't help his curiosity. The kid was oozing with secrets and Hiroshi was not used being blocked. He was _used_ to being witness of vulnerability.

It was like Suguru was trying to prove that he had none.

Hiroshi looked up as Eiri Yuki took a seat across from him, setting a wet bottle of beer on the table.

"Couldn't you have talked him out of doing this?" groaned the author. "You're usually the sensible one."

Hiroshi just shrugged.

"He wanted to have a good time, so I thought I'd indulge him for once. Why are you here if you don't want to be?" Hiroshi questioned.

Eiri glanced past the dance floor, to the bar where the pink haired singer was barely visible, ordering a drink for himself.

"Because."

Hiroshi just smiled. Exhibit A: Eiri Yuki's vulnerable side. His weak spot, Shuichi Shindou. His obvious attention to the singer was a rare sight, and Hiroshi just happened to be the one who got to see it. More then the singer himself.

How is it possible? Even Eiri Yuki was victim to this most human trait in front of Hiroshi, despite how small and minor it was, yet nothing from Suguru.

Yuki sighed and stood up. "Seems I'm being summoned." Hiroshi looked over at the dance floor where Shuichi was waving the blond over.

When the pair were out of sight amongst the population, Hiroshi turned his attention back to Suguru.

"Doing all right there, skipper?" Hiroshi questioned.

Suguru hiccuped, and glanced at Hiroshi with a sloppy smile. Scooting closer, so close his thigh was pressed against the older guitarist, he grabbed Hiroshi's beer and finished it.

"Yeah,"the teen hiccuped again,"I'm all right. I _could_ be better." His smile turned to a smirk, and his hand shot out and wrapped around Hiroshi's other thigh.

Now _this_ was something different. Hiroshi had never seen this side of the keyboardist before.

"What? Cat got your tongue Hiro-kun?" Suguru giggled.

"Suguru, I'm cutting you off. No more drinks." Suguru groaned and squeezed Hiroshi's leg harder.

"Oh come on, joy kill." the teen leaned closer to Hiroshi, purring into his ear, "Don't you want to fuck me?"

Blood flooded to the guitarists cheeks.

"Time for you to go home. Come on." And with that, Hiroshi grabbed the smaller teen, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, and then placing his right arm around Suguru's waist.

"Now the party's started."

* * *

_Jeeze, the kid is heavier then he looks._

Hiroshi jammed Suguru's key into the door knob, and pushed it open, revealing the teens' well kept apartment.

Dragging the stumbling keyboardist into the apartment, he kicked the door shut softly.

"My rooms that way." He slurred and pointed down the hall and to the right. Hiroshi nodded and proceeded.

Once in the room the smaller teen seemed to have mustered up some strength. He shrugged Hiroshi away from him, and with a quick turn, shoved the taller man into a sitting position on top of the bed.

"Let's have sex, Hiroshi." His voice was low and husky as he stumbled onto Hiroshi's lap.

The atmosphere in the room became heavy, with a mist like quality that made things seem unreal. As soon as Hiroshi felt hands on his shoulders, the thoughts _No, this is bad, this needs to stop, stop, stop_, raced through his mind. As soon as he tasted hot, wet, alcohol drenched lips on his the thoughts _But Ayaka, He's drunk, I'm a _male_ and so is he_, started too. As soon as his own hands wrapped around the small waist and urged Suguru on all thoughts came to a screeching halt.

Except one, the one about how _it feels so damn good._

Suguru was naked in no time, and Hiroshi soon followed. Aggressively, Hiroshi threw the smaller body underneath him. Suguru took it with seemingly practiced ease, turning to lay on his stomach.

Soon hair was being pulled, and body parts moved around in odd directions. One of Hiroshi's hands supported Suguru's body slightly above the bed. Suguru's knees bent slightly, hands outstretched in front of him.

"This is gonna hurt." Suguru only nodded in response.

Hiroshi closed his eyes.

_What am I doing?_

Maybe he himself had a few to many drinks. Maybe he had stumbled into a parallel universe and he really wasn't _Hiroshi Nakano_ anymore.

But he knew that really he was just making a mistake, a huge one. But the way Suguru moaned and cried out as he took the small teen slowly, was at that very moment, worth it.

He would deal with consequences later.

* * *

"You have twenty-two new messages, and thirty-six missed calls. First message at twelve-thirty two a.m.,

_'Hiro, just me. It's getting kind of late, come home soon, okay?'_

Next message at one-fifteen a.m.,

_'Hiroshi! It's really late! Where are you?"_

Next message at one-forty four a.m.,

_'Hiro, just me, Shuichi. Ayaka called. She's freaking out man, where are you? And where did Suguru go?'_

Hiroshi sighed, and shut his phone, guessing what the content of the rest of the messages were. He was in deep shit, and he knew he had a lot of explaining to do.

But Suguru had it covered, of course.

When he had woken up that morning, it was about ten. He turned in the bed to find that Suguru was gone.

Yet he had not left. Softly, the sound of a piano seemed to be floating through the small apartment.

_Clair de Lune, very slow._

Hiroshi smiled. Suddenly, the music stopped, and a patter of feet could be heard. The bedroom door opened, and light from the hallway spilled into the room.

The air became heavy, and the silence was thick. Before Hiroshi could come up with something to say though, Suguru beat him to the punch.

"I am going ahead to the studio. I called K-san and told him you got really ill last night, and that you were heavily intoxicated. The story is, that since you were so sick, I ended up just taking you to my place and letting crash on my couch, because I couldn't find Shindou, and I don't know where you live. K-san took care of letting Ayaka and Shindou know."

Hiroshi merely nodded, staring intently at the round, pale face. Suguru let no emotions play through, strictly business like.

"Help yourself to a shower and food." Suguru added.

"Thanks." Hiroshi replied. Suguru turned, but before he left from the threshold, he looked back. His eyes became cold and sad, his voice spilled out small.

"This never happened."

Hiroshi groaned thinking back on it, dropping his head in his hands.

_This never happened._

What on earth had he done?

**End Chapter Two.**

Mmm sorry it has been so long. I live a busy life.

Thanks, and Happy New year you guys!


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